The Secret Billionaire
by Oats and Honey
Summary: Bella is oblivious to the powerful billionaire working alongside her, but instead is taken in by an enigmatic volunteer worker. In the game of love, does money really make a difference?
1. Chapter 1

Description: Bella is oblivious to the powerful billionaire working alongside her, but instead is taken in by an enigmatic volunteer worker. In the game of love, does money really make a difference?

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**BPOV **

"Bell, are you alright?"

Mike manages to break my fall in time, before I break what would inevitably be my second bone this year. _Damn clumsiness_. _Damn stepladders._

Mike, like myself, is a local student at USF collage, and a little too touchy at times.

I weave out of his arms, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you", I say just little too shortly.

"You sure. That could have been a pretty nasty fall. Good job I was there huh?" He grins at me, all blonde haired and blue eyed. He looked more like a twelve year-old boy than a senior at college.

"Ha, yeah. Would you mind finishing the job, and I'll make the coffee? I was just placing the books in alphabetical order via author."

"No probs Bell." _Probs_? _Bell_? Arrgh. I have never found anyone so damn irritating.

.

I put the put the coffee machine on, thankful for the barrier between us, dissolving the awkwardness. Well, on my part anyway.

"Errr, Bell I've been meaning to ask you…. Are you by any chance free next weekend?"

I take a deep breath, but before I even attempt to answer his repetitive question, the shop door opens and closes with a thud.

.

Phew, saved by the bell- well, that is until my ears are assaulted with the shrill voice of Mrs Stanley.

"Good afternoon Michael and how are you? Good to see you working well. Where's Bella?" Oh god no. What now. Well best get this over with I guess.

"In here Mrs Stanley!" I say composing my face.

"Oh, there you are. I've come to request you work Thursday afternoons. There's going to be a new voluntary recruit joining us. His name is Anthony. You are to give him the necessary induction training, yes?

"Oh, yes…. Erm that's fine. About one o'clock?"

"No, lets make it half twelve. I will come in to supervise around two, but only for ten minutes before I have to attend a meeting"

"Of course Mrs Stanley." I almost literally have to bite my tongue.

"Ok, Bella you may resume your work… or… making coffee?" She asks rhetorically, lifting one manicured eyebrow.

.

With that she leaves the shop, and I can un-ball my fists._ You're welcome!It's people like her that can give a bad name to charity organisations. How she ever gained the job of supervisor is totally beyond me- and paid non-the-less._

.

Going back into the main shop area, I hand Mike his coffee. Black, two sugars. Somehow, though I'm not quite sure how, even the way he takes his coffee is irritating.

"Thanks," he lifts the mug before taking a sip.

"What'd she want from you this time?" Though he only joined last month, Mike is used to her coming in the shop and dictating us.

"The usual; to annoy me. Well, that and to help train up a new volunteer. Because lord knows _she_ can't do it herself. She's _far_ too important." I roll my eyes and he smiles.

"Yeah, I agree, she is a bit high and mighty. How the hell have you put up with her for so long"? The answer is obvious to me.

"Because, even though she seems to go out of her way to boss me around, helping the organization raise money in order to help those children, makes it all worth it. " I smile remembering the happiness reflecting on the kid's faces at the last Christmas party. Me taking stick from an overtly bossy, middle-aged woman was nothing in comparison.

"Hmm. Well, I don't envy you." He clearly didn't get it. Did he even really care?

Trying to keep the frustration from showing on my face, I went back to the till to drink my coffee.

Five minutes later the customers soon started flowing in and time soon faded away.

.

Taking the subway back to my apartment, I plunked myself down on one of the tattered I sat there, my thoughts drifted off to what I would have for dinner and Mrs. Stanley's demand. _Another male recruit, huh_. I can only hope for an elderly man or just anyone but another Mike- one of those students only volunteering to pad their C.V.

Dear god, I hoped not.

.

**Thursday**

.

After returning from my English lit class, I hoped in the shower and washed my hair.I let it dry naturally whilst I threw on a pair of skinny jeans, a simple, navy blue top and my black flats.

It was nearing twelve now, so I knew I should get going in order to get there in time.

My flat mate still hadn't come back from staying at her boyfriend's place yet, so I left a note in case she I was late back and she got worried.

_**Angela,**_

_**Schedule shifted. Gone to the Bookshop to help out. Maybe see you tonight.**_

_**Bella. Xxx**_

_**I shoved my ipod in my purse, grabbed my jacket and headed for the subway station.**_

.

.

Arriving at the shop, I greet Florence, one of the more aged ladies helping out.

"Hello Florence. How are you today, been busy?" I have to speak a little more loudly as she's a little death.

"Ah, great to see you Bella. I'm good. A little rushed off my feet this morning- but good. Though I suppose it helps that I've barely seen that bossy Madame this morning."

I laugh, as this is the little nickname she has taken to giving Mrs. Stanley.

"Well, you can relax now, I've come to relieve you of your post. Well until next week that is." She smiles and mockingly wipes her forehead with her hand in relief.

"Phew. Well if you're sure dear?..."

"Yes, yes go on, get going. I'll be fine; I won't be alone for long. Someone else is helping out. Enjoy the rest of your day."

"Ok chuck. If you certain", she says hesitantly.

"I am, now go." Mock sternness consuming my voice.

All right, I'm going, I'm going. Take care now." I wave and she is out the door, no doubt to enjoy a nice lunch.

.

The clock says nearly half twelve, or what I like to call the deserted period between now and after one, so I retrieve Jane Eyre from my bag and start to read.

After a few pages I hear the door open, and prepare to greet the new member of staff. Gosh, what was his name again?.…..

A god of a man approaches the till area.

_Lord_ he's handsome. I fight the urge to fan myself with my book.

"Excuse me. Mrs. Stanley is it?" And so politely spoken. He extends his musician-like hands to me. "I'm Anthony. Anthony Masen. I'm here to complete some volunteer work."

Wow, so definitely not another Mike. This man seemed little under striking. Lean, dressed in Levis and a white button-down shirt with uncontrollable bronze hair and piercing jade eyes that seem to scrutinise me.

I place my hand in his and desperately try to compose myself somewhat, and find my voice.

"Errr…. no, I'm sorry Mrs. Stanley is unfortunately indisposed at present, but I'm Bella Swan and I'll be giving you the training." I smile apologetically, pleased that I sound vaguely coherent.

He nods in acknowledgement, but frowns slightly, calculating, and I'm guessing it's because he doesn't want some college girl crushing on him. Though I suspect even the ever so _professional_ Mrs. Stanley would be affected.

"Well, errr.. I suppose I should start with showing you around." I try to direct the conversation.

"Yes that would be nice." His voice is smooth like honey.

Like _honey_, Bella. Really?

I start giving him the very limited tour of the shop, where each genre of book was stored and going through the mundane health and safety regulations such as the emergency exit. All the while I'm doing this I can feel his gaze on my back, and I daren't look at him too frequently. Though in reality I could look at this man all day.

_What has gotten into you, Bella?_

.

After the ten-minute run-through I introduce him to the till.

"Have you ever used a till before?"

He shakes his head, no. "But I'm wiling to learn. I'm sure you're more than capable of teaching me…"

He stares at me intently, and I feel myself blush slightly, though I have no particular reason.

"Ahem, yes, I suppose I should take that as a challenge then." I'm all fingers and thumbs as I try to demonstrate how it works. Of course, it's very simple, as the till itself looks like it was from the 50's- he masters it straight away. Finishing with a slight smug grin, he proceeds to give me a 'what now?' expression.

"The customers don't usually start coming in till about ten minutes." I shrug at him, still feeling a little self-conscious.

"Ah, ok. So that gives me time then." To back out? Request another schedule? I'm confused.

"Time to what? Get lunch? There's coffee and biscuits in the back." He gives a sharp laugh and shakes his head.

"No, I meant it gives me time to get to know you. Why, and how do you benefit from working here?" He looks genuinely interested.

"Oh, well, I heard about the organization through a collage talk. They told a few stories of the children and I just wanted to contribute somehow. Make some kind of difference. However insignificant, you know." I shrug my shoulders feeling just a little silly.

"I don't think what you do is insignificant at all. Quite the opposite in fact." His gaze is intense.

"Hmmm, so how about you then. Any major reasons?" Why would such an attractive man his age bother himself. He just doesn't fit the criteria.

"Same as you really." I scoff cutting him off

"You certainly don't look like a collage student though, I mean look at you."

As soon as I say this though, I turn red. Where the hell is the damn filter when I need it.

"Sorry…I didn't mean…..carry on."

"It's ok, where was I." He says jestingly. "Ah, yes. Well, I suppose…I do it for personal reasons." And with that he brakes off.

_Hmmm_.

"Them being?..." He gives me a look that tells me he isn't for answering that question, so I don't dig any further.

A customer enters the shop, and from then on the shop is relatively busy.

.

I work the till whilst Anthony rearranges the books; leaving me wondering just what happened in this man's past.

Mysterious man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two **

Thank you for the reviews. Answers to the questions will be revealed slowly but shortly. Thank you again.

- Oats and Honey. x

**BPOV**

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The shop is so busy all afternoon, that once I look up at the clock, it's ten minutes till cashing-up time. Of course this means I haven't said more than ten words to Anthony for about two hours, and even they were 'The crime section is at the back corner' and 'Want a coffee?' _God I'm and idiot_.

.

As soon as the last remaining customer leaves the shop, I swiftly close the door, flipping the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'. I breathe a sigh of relief. Another day finished, and no Mrs. meeting must have overrun- by _two_ hours. Either that or I suspect she has gone to touch up her acrylic nails. _Ugh!_

As I turn around, Anthony is just finishing placing the donated books into their respected genres, and as he reaches for the higher shelves, I take the time to admire his godliness. His shirt is lifted a few inches revealing his happy trail, that I certainly wouldn't mind following, and his lower stomach too much, but certainly defined._Yum_. I wonder how that would feel under….

"Bellllllaaa. Did you hear what I said?" He's turned around now, wearing a smug lop-sided smirk. _Shit_. He knows I've been admiring him- but the sound of my name on his tongue….._Ahh_

Arrogant ass.

"Err, no. Sorry what was that.?" Very articulate, _Bella_.

"I said, are we closing up now?"

"Yes, we shut at five. I'm just going to cash and lock up. " For some reason or other he frowns.

"Do you normally lock up on your own?" _What's he insinuating exactly?_

"Yes." _And? _

His eyes glance towards the window, and it's dark outside.

"Hmm. Do you get a taxi?" I feel like I'm playing 20Q's.

"No. It's only a ten minute subway journey to my apartment." At this his eyes narrow ever so slightly. Jeez, he can't actually care.

"Okay, well be careful." He looks hesitant to leave, so I encourage him with an assuring smile.

"Bye Anthony, see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye Bella." He mutters something else, though, what, I can't quite comprehend, and exits the shop- I can just make out his fine form crossing the street.

.

After cashing up and turning off the power, I grab my coat and purse and set out for the subway station after locking the was the start of November, so the nights were inevitably getting darker and much colder. The walks to the subway were much more pleasant in the spring or summer. I enjoyed them.

.

Walking down the street, I felt like I was being watched somehow. Looking around, I noticed a sleek black car parked on the opposite side. _Strange, this place is practically always deserted at this time_.

It was probably nothing, but I picked up my pace regardless. _Shit Bella, talk about eating your own words. _

I practically jog down the street, until I loose sight of the mystery car and I reminded of what my dad said to me when I was fifteen. _Always, always keep a can of pepper spray handy Bella- especially on a date._ My response, of course, was to roll my eyes like any teen would; tough I knew he meant well.

.

For the rest of the journey, I am on high alert until I reach my apartment. I fumble with the keys slightly, still having that uneasy feeling of being watched. Once inside, I let out an extended breath. I_t was all in your imagination- silly girl_.

I turn the light on and dump my stuff on the counter. Angela must still be at Ben's. Well then I guess it's just me and….

Before I get to finish this thought, 'The man of the house' chooses to honour me with his presence rubs himself against my leg, no doubt begging for his feed. _Oh, Gizmo, you greedy little cater to his need, I reach into the cupboard and pull out his Sheeba- __Spoilt cat_- he meows in response.

Like in the films, on the outside, he's a fur-ball of cuteness. In reality, however, he truly is a little gremlin, frequently causing chaos. Glancing around he apartment I assess the damage he may have done today.

_Hmm. Well, Seems ok._

In true typical fashion, I think this a moment too soon. He seems to have made a brand new rip in the you manic-destructive cat. Why the brand new freaking drapes?Angela will go psycho. _Well, better you than me buddy._

.

As I inspect the drapes however, I catch a glimpse of a vehicle driving off. I swear my eyes are deceiving me. _Is it the same as…? _I see a figure moving in the back of the car, and gasp, ducking to the side of the window out of view.

I peer back, and it's disappeared round the corner.

_For heaven's sake, Bella. Such a bloody drama queen. All dark cars look the same at night, idiot. _

I pull the drapes together none-the-less, and turn back around towards Gizmo, who, quite rightly gives me the weird-eye. _I know. I know._

.

Feeling the need to relax, I undress and change into my sweats and carelessly place my hair in a bun before plopping down on the sofa with a cup of tea, a pop tart and a good book. _Ahhh home therapy. _

I quickly get absorbed into the world of Jane and Edward Rochester…

.

.

The next thing I feel is something jumping onto my stomach. _What the?_ In alarm, I sit up, only to find Giz pawing me. _Silly cat_.

Swinging off the couch, and earning a huff of annoyance from Gizmo, I glance at the clock. Crap, twelve am! I've been asleep for three hours.I pick up my book, which had found its way to the floor_, _and trudge to my bedroom.

I decide to bypass the night routine; I really can't be bothered, and collapse onto my lone, single bed.

_Mmmm sleep…_

.

.

.

I sit there with my cup of coffee placed in front of me, though I don't actually like the taste of coffee, I find the smell comforting. Plus, I find that it's a good strategy to wake myself some reason or other, I find I am being drawn into of Angela's magazines, an article about 'how to dress sophisticated whilst still casual. '

_Yeah right, Bella, talk about delusional. You know exactly why you're reading it. Two words. _

_Anthony. Masen._

Trying to soak in the knowledge from the magazine, I stand, analysing my closet. Do I pair the white shirt with the blue shoes and the black pants? …The purple jumper with the black leggings with the grey boots? Or the blue blouse with the fitted jeans and my black flats? _Arrrrgh._ Being a girl is torturous at times. Surely guys don't have this problem.

_Anthony made it look so effortless…._

Stop daydreaming, Bella! You don't have time. _Decide, goddamn it. It's not like he'll notice anyway._

Deep down I know my subconscious is right. Guys like him never go for plain Jane's like me. _What am I even doing_?

Half-heartedly, I throw on the last outfit consisting of the jeans, flats and blouse and apply mascara. With just enough time to feed Gizmo, I grab my keys and purse and am out the door.

.

Today, I have decided, is the day I start trying to piece-up the jigsaw puzzle that is Anthony Masen.

.

When I arrive at the shop around nine, Mrs. Stanley's car is parked across the street. _Arrrgh, that's just what I need in the morning. Hasn't she got a hair appointment to attend or something_?

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Taking a deep breath, I enter the shop and smile at the customer digging through the science-fic section. Mrs. Stanley stands talking to Anthony, no doubt lecturing him on how important she is in this organisation.

"Yes, so it over-ran. Otherwise, I would have definitely stopped by to supervise…."

He nods, though his eyes don't seem convinced. Taking in his profile, I see he is yet again wearing jeans, but today it is a blue loosely fitted t-shirt. _Gah! This man, I swear he could be a model. _Or perhaps he is- I have no idea.

His eyes swiftly move to mine, and they swiftly sweep up and down my body; so quickly, I could have imagined it. He is so distracting that I only just about manage to place one foot in front of the other to approach the till.

.

"Good Morning, Bella." His full attention is on me now, and I can feel myself blush slightly under his gaze. _Stupid habit._

"Morning," I all but mutter.

Mrs. Stanley decides at this point to make herself acknowledged.

"Bella, It was convenient for you that Mr. Masen, here, was holding my attention, or else I would have noticed your tardiness.." _Bite your tongue, Bella. You must respect your elders. Respect. Your. Elders._ "I shall be in the store room for about half an hour, before going to the agency. There is a to-do list in the back to complete throughout the day. " She then turns to Anthony and smiles sweetly. _Cougar alert._

"If you need anything, Anthony, don't hesitate to ask." And with that, she struts off. _Good riddance._

_Insufferable woman._

.

I roll my eyes and turn back to Anthony who shakes his head slightly. I decide to break the ice.

"So…I got home alright. Not a scratch." I smile up at him, deciding to break the ice. _My_, being this close to him, I can appreciate his height. _Must be_ _6 ft at least._

Despite my attempt to lighten things, he doesn't seem too amused. A sceptical look washes over his features.

"Hmmmm, it seems that you did." Why do I feel intimidated by this man? There's just something about him that I can't quite place.

"Right, then, I suppose we should get started. I'll retrieve the list. Want a coffee whilst I'm in there?" I need a moment of space.

"Yes. Strong, black, no sugar." _Whoa, assertive much?_

"I'll be two minutes…" I have to brush past him, as he isn't for moving. It's almost too close for me to bear.

.

The list Mrs. Stanley has made is left on the counter, and I glance over it, waiting for the coffee machine to kick in.

**.**

**.**

**The following tasks must be completed by the end of the morning:**

**Dust down all bookshelves.**

**Make sure all books are ordered correctly.**

**Clean counter-tops.**

**Sweep under shelves.**

**Clean windows.**

**.**

_Like I don't do all this anyway._

_._

When the coffee is ready, I pour a cup for him. Strong, black and no sugar. _Hmmmm, fitting…_

I don't bother pouring one for myself. Just the smell of his will do.

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With the list in one hand and coffee in the other, I make my way to the shop floor. Anthony is serving a customer, they are discussing about an author, Orwell, I think.

.

….."Have you read any of his other novels? 'Animal Farm' is particularly good." Anthony inquires.

"No, not yet, but if I take a liking to this, I'll most certainly be back." Anthony hands him the bag.

"I will definitely see you then, have a nice day." The customer waves and exits the shop.

.

"There you go," He takes it from my hands and thanks me.

"_Have a nice day."_ I say in a mocking tone. "Really?"

He sips his coffee, before placing it on the counter. _What i'd give to touch those lips_. _Lucky mug_.

"I've never worked in a shop before. Is that not the norm? Or would you rather I say 'thank you, come again?" He replies coolly.

"No, this isn't the Kwik-E- Mart, Apu." I smile at him so he knows I'm joking. A slight confused look crosses his face.

"Errr, the Simpsons?" I receive a blank stare. _Oh come on! He hasn't heard of The Simpsons._

.

"Never mind." I drop it. "So you're an Orwell fan huh? Figures."

"And what exactly, is that supposed to mean Ms. Swan?" He says, lifting one eyebrow. _Miss Swan eh? What's with the formalities Mr. Masen?_

"Well, he just has a very masculine writing style. He doesn't go into detail about anything, especially in '1984'. The lack of colour bores me. It's so completely grey." A smile ghosts his lips at my little rant.

"I suppose it is very masculine, yes, though I think, very original. Don't you agree?"

"Oh, yes! I don't doubt for a minute that it isn't a clever book. I guess I just prefer something a little more …visually stimulating. The Bronte sister's work for example or Austen." He seems to take this into consideration.

"Bronte. Figures." He is mimicking now.

"How so?" Why not play along?

"Well their style is very feminine. Very Delicate... Just like you." At this, I blush. _Moi?_ He obviously hasn't seen my clumsiness first-hand yet.

.

"So tell me Bella, what current book are you reading?"

"Jane Eyre, actually." To my ears I sound confident, though I am still reeling from his last comment. _Compliment?_

"Ah, first time? I'm sensing not." I am just that easy to read.

"No, probably about the fourth time reading it. I should really read a wider variety, but they're so addictive." He nods in response, though it's obvious he doesn't agree with this statement.

"How do you take to the character Edwa-"?

.

Before he gets to finish his question the door is flung open, revealing none other than Jessica, Mrs. Stanley's daughter. _This should be fun._

She walks up to us, and on noticing Anthony, practically drools all down her _far _too tight, _far_ too pink sweater._ It seems I'm not the only one affected then._

"Hi, I'm Jessica, My mother is the supervisor here. I don't think I've seen you here before. Are you new?" Like her mother, she adopts that sickly sweet tone.

_Ugh! Guys can't actually fall for that faux innocence. Can they?_

.

Batting her eyelashes, focusing her attention on Anthony only, all blonde-haired and big-boobed; I feel inadequate. Instead of standing there like a fricking lemon, watching Jessica do what I wish I had the confidence to do myself, I start on the tasks on the to-do list.

.

.

Half way through the second task of re-ordering the books, I feel a presence behind me. Without looking, I have already established who it is.I Fix, what I think is, an impassive expression on my face, and turn around throwing him a cloth, which, of course, he catches with ease.

"Here, wipe the shelves down. We have about an hour and a half to complete the tasks on this list." He frowns slightly, probably at my distant demeanour, but does as I ask.

.

After a minutes lapse in conversation, I decide to fill the void.

"So…what did Jessica want?" I aim for nonchalance, but don't quite hit the bulls-eye. _Please don't say you're interested in her._

"Oh, just inquiring as to where her mother was, is all." He shrugs at me, his face blank. I know he isn't telling me the entire truth. Perhaps they're going out to get coffee together. Maybe she'll impress him with her knowledge of diet 'novels'- they'll have a blast.

"She's very forward. There's a lot of her mother in her." I nod in agreement. _You have no idea._

"Hmm, quite pretty." I try to aim for her only positive quality.

"Personally, I prefer a more classic beauty. Blondes don't interest me…." His eyes search my face, causing me to blush for the second time today.

,

"Have coffee with me. There's a café not far from here." _Well that was unexpected._

"Is that a request or demand?"

"It depends…."

"On?"

"If you say 'yes', then it's a request. But if you say 'no' then it's a demand." He says matter-of-factly.

"I can't I have class after this." Though this is true, part of me says this to see his reaction to my rejection. _I bet It's not often that that this man is denied anything._

"That's fine I'll pick you up. When does class finish?" _Oh_.

"Oh, no. That's quite alright you don't-"

"What time, Isabella?" Bella, Miss. Swan, Isabella. I simply can't keep up. He just won't be refused, will he?

"Errrr, four?" It comes out like a question.

He nods. "I will-"

,

At that moment, Van Morrison starts crooning from inside his jean pocket. He holds a finger up to me, one minute, and answers the call.

"Yes." Jeez, he's short. Not exactly the friendliest answering of a phone I've ever heard.

"No, three more days…. He asked for me personally?... And he acknowledges that you're the CFO? …. Yes, yes I'll be there shortly. Keep him occupied." With that he cuts off the call. He's clearly in very high demand. _What exactly is his job?_

"That sounded urgent. Are you leaving?" For some reason I am both relieved and disappointed.

"Yes. I'm needed." _Hmmm, I bet you are…_

"I'll pick you up outside your apartment about quarter past four- be ready. Apologise to Mrs. Stanley for me." _Oh easier said than done._

.

.

With that, he is out of the shop, and out of site.

.

.

I didn't even get chance to give him my address…


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much to the regular reviewers. **

**Chapter three**

.

I am completely preoccupied all through lit class. Daydreaming about a certain man with green eyes, a lean frame and tousled hair. It's like I'm not even in class- _I'm seriously going to need to copy up someone's notes._

My apartment huddles in downtown Townsend. It's pretty dingy, built sometime in the distant past. But hey, students aren't supposed to live in style. The damn elevator is out of order, and has been ever since I've been here, leaving me having to climb six flights of stairs. It's practically a workout, and I know I'll have to have a quick wash before going out to get coffee.

_Don't want you smelling bad for Anthony, now, do we?_ My subconscious snaps. _Oh shut up!_

Dropping my book-bag at the entrance, I head straight for the bedroom. The clock says 16:04. I have approximately eleven minutes to wash, re-change and fix my hair. It's a race against time.

'

So as to shield my hair from the water, I twist it up and fix it into a clasp. Normally I like to stand under the hot stream of water for at least fifteen minutes, but I simply don't have time- I opt, instead, for a quick slather of milk and honey body gel, rinse and then proceed to dry myself.

'

_There we go_. I look in the mirror- _not too shabby Swan._ It's amazing what a wash, the re-application of make-up and a comb through the hair can do. Of course this effort may well all be fruitless. _How on earth will he know where to pick me up? _Batman and Bruce Wayne enter my mind momentarily._ Perhaps he's installed a tracking device._

_Ha, yeah right, Bella. He probably just won't turn up. He doesn't even have your cell number._ My subconscious just continues to taunt me. She's probably right.

'

In true fashion, just as I sike myself up for an evening being consumed with essays, the buzzer goes. Gizmo pears up from his catnap and eyes me questioningly.

'

Taking a deep breath, I answer. "Hello?"

"Bella, its Anthony are you ready?"_ How in the world?_

"Errr, yes. I'll be down in a minute." The stairs are much easier when you're not fighting gravity.

I grab my purse and pet the cat good-bye_. Well, wish me luck Giz. _His response is a lulling purr_. Well, it'll do I suppose. _

.

_All that is separating Anthony and myself now is a red door. Deep breath...aaaand open. _

I look to my right, and see Anthony, leaning against the building, waiting- for me. Why on earth would this insanely attractive man want to spend time with me? His poise is elegant, yet masculine and he looks as though is posing for a photo shoot.

"Hi, there's a great coffee place about five blocks from here.." I mumble, no doubt blushing slightly.

He smiles. "Well, lead the way..." He indicates for me to direct him.

I walk down the street, with Anthony by my side. I don't dare try to steal a glance- knowing my luck he'd probably catch me. What the heck do I say to this man? Think of something- anything- damn it. Thankfully, though, he decides to initiate the conversation.

"How long have you lived here, in this... residence?" He struggles as he tries to find the word to describe my apartment building. _Humph. _

"About three years, I know it's not much, but it warms to you. Plus, it's really near college campus."

"Hmmmm ... I see" He turns his head slightly to eye my building skeptically. _Jeez, it isn't that bad. _

It's a fine late Friday afternoon. Clouds are few and far between, though twilight is looming. I lead him right, towards a busier vicinity, and we have to dodge a flow of people in order to reach the crossing.

We walk a further three blocks until we arrive at Steaming Coffee House, where he gallantly holds the door open for me, allowing me to enter. _Someone's been brought up well._

'

"There aren't many tables left. Why don't you go grab one whilst I go and get us something to drink? How do you take your coffee?" _Do I tell him I don't actually like it?_

_Nah_, I think I'll go with faking it. "Um, I'll have a regular coffee with milk, if you don't mind. Thanks."

"Sure, coming right up. I'll be over in a second. Would you like a muffin or a cookie? It looks like they bake them fresh."

"No, I'm good thanks." _Like I could eat with you sitting across from me_. My stomach is already full of butterflies.

'

He's right there is only two tables left- an intimate one that seats two, tucked into the far right corner, or a family sized one in the centre. I go for the former, hoping I will be able to cope with the close proximately.

'

"Sorry about the cups, apparently nobody drinks in these days." He uses a sarcastic tone, referring to the Styrofoam cups in his hands.

He hands me the coffee, and I take it with a grateful smile, placing it in front of me.

"It's ok, thanks."

He too, has a coffee, no doubt strong and black, and sits down on the seat facing me, immediately taking a sip of his drink.

.

The drink is nice and warm as I cup my hands around it, and the smell comforting.

.

He puts the cup back down and focuses his attention on me.

"So, it's pretty damp this time of year, eh?" Once again, he initiates the conversation. But the _weather? Really_?

"The _weather_? Are we really going to talk about the weather? It's the same year in and year out. Nothing changes."

He grins at me.

"Well then, I suppose not. We shall have to take a different route. Lets see…hmmm…. Are you originally from around here?"

"No, I've spent most of my years divided between Arizona with my mom, and Washington with my Dad, though primarily Arizona. How about you?" I ask the first of many pre-prepared questions I have for this man.

"Chicago." His answer is far to short. _He certainly isn't giving much away_.

.

"Tell me about your family. I am assuming your parents are separated?" He seriously wants to know about my mundane family life? _Oh boy, here we go._

"Well my mom, who I once lived with in Arizona, re-married a minor-league baseball player around ten years her junior. She's somewhat erratic and scatter brained, and seriously can't use the cooker to save her life." I smile in remembrance of her utter inedible meals. "But she's my mom, and you can't choose you family, right?" I glance up at him and smile- on his face is an analytical expression.

"Hmmm, you sound very attached. Do you miss her?" He fishes for further information.

"Yes, sometimes I really miss her, but mostly I just worry about whether she's looking after herself alright. Though she has Phil, now, I suppose. She wouldn't be able to cope on her own, I don't think." _She'd burn the house down, more like._

"And your Dad, what's he like?"

"He's the chief of police in a small town- your stereotypical cop really. More at home with steak and chips, a can of bear and the sports channel, than an elaborate restaurant. In fact, that's probably his life summed up there: his job, his sports and his unhealthy eating habits. Oh, and fishing of course. How could I forget the fishing?"

.

"And _your_ family?" I am desperately craving just one morsel of information.

"Essentially I'm adopted, my biological parents died when I was younger- though I think of my adoptive parents as my own. My father is a renowned surgeon across the city, and my mother is the governess for various charities." He is rather reluctant- so reserved."

"Adopted…. I'm sorry..I didn't-"

"No, it's ok. Carlisle and Esme are the best thing that have ever happened to me. I owe them a lot." I can tell he loves them dearly, but I am still reeling over the fact he is adopted. I wonder what he's been through…

.

"Are you an only child?" why stop now?

"No, I have two adopted siblings. An older brother, Emmett, who's a fitness instructor and then there's my younger sister, Alice- she owns a boutique further uptown." The way he talks about his sister- it's clear he adores her.

"Hmm, what do you do?"

He frowns, hesitating a little.

"I'm in business- my job varies." He looks calculating- as though he wants to say more, but after a second or two of anticipation, it's clear he isn't revealing any more. _He's so damn vague._

I nod regardless, and he takes this opportunity to take over the topic of discussion.

.

"Do you have any plans after you graduate from collage?" _Ah, and we're back to me again. That didn't last long._

"I haven't quite come to a decision as of yet. I'm wavering between business communications and P.R. I'm also minoring in business studies."

His face suggests he doesn't expect this.

"What? You seem surprised."

"I presumed you would say journalism or writing, that's all. I didn't predict anything along those lines."

"Well, you should never presume, then, should you." It comes out a little more snappy than I intended- though I don't apologize.

"No, I don't suppose I should, not when it comes to you." _What exactly is that supposed to mean?_

"Pardon?"

"I'm normally able to read people with ease, Bella. It comes with the….. territory. But you. You….. elude me somehow." _Territory? Elude him? I'm a bloody open book._

.

"How did you know where I lived? You didn't even get the chance to ask me before you left?" The question I've been holding in for over half an hour slips my lips.

.

For the slightest of moments, an uncomfortable expression crosses his face, before his usual passive look returns.

_Just tell me godamnit._

_All review welcome- even criticisms :)_


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